


Play it again, Cap

by Kalee60



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Canon Divergence - Captain America: The Winter Soldier, Fluff, Idiots in Love, M/M, Mutual Pining, Not Canon Compliant, POV Bucky Barnes, Sexy Times
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-13
Updated: 2019-08-13
Packaged: 2020-08-20 13:48:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,002
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20228872
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kalee60/pseuds/Kalee60
Summary: Bucky wasn’t great with words, nor great with feelings or even figuring out his place in the world with Steve, who he’d loved for - well, ever.But then a music app changes everything when he stumbles across a playlist labelled Stucky...





	Play it again, Cap

**Author's Note:**

> Hello!!
> 
> So, yeah - this story came from nowhere - ok, an unhealthy obsession with Stucky playlists may have been a catalyst....after Endgame. Which made me wonder what would happen if Bucky discovered one of these playlists and his reaction to this new found knowledge.
> 
> Its not particularly set in a specific timeframe, but in a relatively pain free happy MCU (so this story is kinder to these two boys). I've never attempted this pairing so I hope you enjoy this small offering to the fandom!

Bucky was officially a music convert, he honestly couldn't listen to enough of it. The beat, style and lyrics had changed exponentially since he'd first been introduced to Big Band way back when, but the modern stuff was growing on him rapidly.

It all began when he'd been gifted a Stark phone full of apps months ago. He didn’t use it to the best of its abilities -  _ hell _ \- half the time he couldn’t even answer it. But his therapist mentioned that listening to music through his newly acquired phone might help centre him when he was stressed and feeling overwhelmed, which still happened more often than he'd hoped it would. 

If he were being honest (and he really was trying to be), the only thing that calmed the inner turmoil of doubt and fear, was Steve. Thank God they shared an apartment which made it easier for him. But he couldn’t rely on his friend forever. Ok, he hoped he  _ could _ \- but he was also attempting to be a realist. Steve had a good life here, friends, a job and down the track he assumed he'd find someone to settle down with. Someone who wasn't Bucky. He had to prepare himself for the inevitable. 

So, he downloaded a music streaming service and began to re-find himself. 

Music had certainly come a long way since he'd enjoyed taking dames out to dance. A cacophony of noise that was very hit and miss until he started to find some modern genres that he found surprisingly appealing. Once that happened - he'd fallen down a slippery slope of lyrical obsession.

The more he used the service, the more he utilised it's features and soon noticed the app would recommend playlists based on the songs he liked and saved. And from there he devoured hours upon hours of music. Steve teased him relentlessly for walking around the apartment earbuds in, head nodding along to tunes. He ignored it for the most part but was secretly chuffed he was the reason Steve smiled and shook his head so fondly.

He hadn't paid much attention to the names of the playlists until his eyes fell on a familiar phrase, ‘Avengers Assemble’ which was full of punchy rock songs. Bucky smirked,  _ ha _ , who’d have thought people would base their music on groups, moods and people. It was a novel idea so he explored further, finding some excellent thumping electronica based on Iron Man and some beautiful soulful numbers for Natasha, which he knew she'd hate - ‘ _ I’m not a sad, angry misunderstood assassin, James _ ’. She kind of was. Nat was similar yet also quite different to him and his situation. What he adored though - their arguments in Russian. It annoyed everyone else, mainly as they couldn’t understand - they were usually fighting over who should have won in Chopped the evening before. But no one else had to know their cooking show fetish even as much as Tony threatened to use JARVIS as a translator. They got along like siblings, meaning he loved her to death all while wanting to throttle her. 

It only took two seconds into his exploration of Avenger names to talk himself into the ridiculous, typing in 'Captain America' all while looking over his shoulder to ensure no one saw. Suddenly his ears were assaulted with the jazz, blues and sultry voices of his old life - tears welled as he yearned for a time long lost. He spent hours in those playlists alone, heart moving from an ache of bittersweet to contentment that he could remember most of that time, that he not only lived it, but that he lived  _ in _ it.

His therapist was right - it did help, it was easier to reflect now and also to start to accept what was lost for good. But he always remembered his home - Steve.

One late afternoon as he lay in his bed enjoying the warmth of a real 'no joke' feather comforter, he found a playlist, one he’d not seen before, 'Stucky'. Frowning, he tried to figure out what it was, who it was about. Giving up five minutes later, he searched the internet (and how mind-blowing was it to have that at his fingertips) and after a few seconds of reading, a roaring blush filled his cheeks as the meaning of the innocent sounding word became apparent.  _ Holy hell. _

People _ actually _ had playlists based on him and Steve, lots of playlists, like they were a thing - like they were  _ together _ . His stomach swooped.

Equal parts nervous and enthralled he clicked through song after song, and without consciously realising it, he’d started to compose his own Stucky playlist, saving songs which reminded him of the old days and modern songs with lyrics that captured feelings he just couldn't voice.

Was it healthy to obsess over the fact that people in the world wanted them together as much as he did, or was it just plain sad that others could clearly see what he could only hope to have?

But nonetheless Bucky continued to save and listen to these songs, it was a salve, something he could do surreptitiously without toppling the careful balance of friendship he and Steve had finally rekindled once he’d mostly come back to himself after Hydra.

He couldn't stop himself wondering if Steve had ever come across the term Stucky and if so, what were his thoughts? Bucky baulked, not certain he wanted to explore what the answer could be. He didn't want to,  _ no _ he couldn't allow himself to hope for more than they had. He was lucky, the luckiest man in the world to have a pal like Steve. And if Steve was bothered by the idea of them like that… well, he also didn't want to know, he was sure his heart would never recover from a rejection of that proportion. Hydra definitely did a solid number on him, but from what they could tell, his heart was his. Though not in its entirety, that (dubious) honour belonged to Steve. Who didn't have a damn clue.

Feeling reckless and a little heart sore from all of his thoughts and realisations, he needed Steve to know how much he cared, without verbalising. It hit him a few days later on how he could do this, so he began to play his music softly in the background whenever they were home together. Steve would never realise, he was the smartest person in the room at any given time but there was no way he'd cotton on to the Stucky playlist. Bucky was the master of hiding and deception after all.

It was a good night, perfect in fact. Bucky and Steve together alone in the apartment, no mission, no gala to attend, just the two of them hanging out. He couldn’t hide the little smirk when he looked over at the other end of the couch at Steve, but he needn't worry about being caught staring, as his friend was engrossed - pencil and paper in hand.

He’d put on his playlist as background when Steve announced he wanted to sketch a weird-ass vase he’d picked up in a rummage sale the other week and would like company as he did so. So instead of disappearing into his room, Bucky stayed to give moral support, as the vase was ugly as sin - even Steve couldn’t make it look good. He flicked through the latest Batman Comic as he relaxed, reading about the broken yet intensely strong man was cathartic somehow. He also may or may not have a thing for Bruce Wayne. All that muscle...

It was good, it was normal, it made his head clearer and he adored these times when it was just the two of them. There was way too much stimulation in his new world and although he’d taken to it with gusto, it was still disconcerting to have everything at his fingertips. Suddenly they could afford heating, food,  _ hell _ , they could afford almost anything, including his streaming service - music on demand, how neat! Having money was a heady sensation and one he was still getting used to. He wasn’t sure if he ever would.

Bucky was humming along to the lyrics of a Depeche Mode song as Dave Gahan’s unique voice sang ‘I have all the time in the world, to make you mine’ when Steve’s pencil faltered and stopped altogether. The lack of pencil scratches on paper deafening even with the soft song playing in the background.

“Did you... have you noticed…” Steve’s cheeks flushed pink and Bucky was suddenly transported back to when they were kids and Steve was trying to tell him he liked boys  _ and _ girls, and how his face flamed as he stammered it out. He had no idea that the serum would still allow a deep crimson to filter through. He impossibly fell in love just a little more. This was  _ his _ Stevie - all embarrassed emotions.

He realised Steve fell quiet and didn’t finish the sentence, it hung there unanswered, unfinished. It took all of his will-power not to cross the chasm between them and grab his arm and ask if he was okay. Instead he took the cowards route and poked Steve in the thigh with his outstretched toes to prod him into finishing the thought. Steve immediately grabbed hold of his ankle yet didn’t say anything or glance at Bucky, instead he looked down at the captured foot, frown on his face. 

“Steve? What -”

“- Buck. Just - this music, where… what is it?”

_ Shit, _ had he messed up with the playlist? It was supposed to evoke memories of their bond, show how much Bucky adored Steve without having to articulate anything, because he was a goddamn chicken. But Steve obviously didn’t see it that way.

He tried to remove his foot, Steve held on. To be honest it was going to get awkward soon. Bucky’s stomach twisted in knots.

“Oh, um...” how the hell did he answer this without looking like a complete fool? He raised a clammy palm to his neck and rubbed it in a nervous gesture.  _ Oh, shit _ \- Steve’s eyes snapped to his, narrowed. Bucky dropped his hand immediately, how could he have forgotten - it was one of his biggest tells and Steve knew them all.

“Thought you’d like it, s’all,” he mumbled, trying to regain his foot which Steve was now stroking lightly, knowing the blonde had no idea he was unintentionally equal parts turning Bucky on, and scaring the absolute shit out of him. The playlist was a stupid idea.

“Oh.”

Bucky swallowed tightly and managed to jerk his foot from Steve’s grasp much to the surprise of the blonde if the shock on his ridiculously gorgeous face was anything to go by. 

_ Yeah, oh.  _ He really needed an escape, to compartmentalise and think about how stupid he’d been - how obvious. He fled to his room, ignoring the strangled ‘Buck’ from Steve.

He burrowed deeply in his quilt, throwing it over his head and hid from the world - just for a bit.

Steve thankfully didn’t bring the songs up again, not in so many words in the least, nor to Bucky directly. But there were times when he would come back from the gym working out with Sam and could hear the strains of music coming from the apartment. Though as soon as he opened the door it would fall silent and Steve would nonchalantly walk out from his room, make a coffee while offering a glass of cold water to him. Bucky took it each and every time, never once mentioning the music or asking Steve if it was  _ his  _ playlist. He wouldn’t know what to say even if he did mention it. 

_ Oh hey, Steve - I’ve been in love with you since we were kids and I made you a list of all the songs that remind me of who and what we are - you seem distubed by this. Is it the music or the thought of me? _

Urgh - it was all too emotionally hard and he was generally constipated when it came to expressing himself. He was never good at it prior to the war either, dating all the people except the one he really wanted to, then Hydra happened and there went the rest of his ability to know if what was in his head was real or not. But  _ Steve _ \- he was always a constant. He knew without a doubt Steve was his forever, he just wished the blonde returned his ridiculous pining and had the guts to confront Bucky. Because - you know, owning up to your feelings and speaking about them instead of creating a stupid playlist would be an adult thing to do. Bucky was technically older than an adult, so he didn't have to play by those rules - did he?

He reasoned he’d be fine, he had Steve as a best mate, that’s all he could ask for, all he could expect, wasn’t it?

Over the next few weeks Bucky noticed Steve wearing earbuds more often. It was a strange thing to notice, but since he also constantly had music pouring into his own eardrums he noticed. Clearly it had nothing to do with the sensitivity he felt over the ‘Stucky’ music fiasco.

He remembered Sam mentioning something off the cuff about podcasts to Steve one day and Bucky assumed he was catching up with the future via these cast things. 

Of course he couldn’t leave well enough alone and just accept that’s what Steve was listening to. He was a glutton for punishment and was going to end up looking like a right idiot when he pushed for an answer.

It was as Steve cooked them pasta one night, an earbud trailing from his ear as he listened to something while preparing dinner, that Bucky blurted, “you been listening to those podcast things a lot? I mean, not a lot, lot, but a fair bit right?”

Steve looked sharply at him, face reddening from the pasta steam as he took out the bud and set his phone aside. “Huh, what?”

“Podcasts? I’ve seen you listening to more things on your phone and I remember Sam got you on to them didn’t he?”

“Err, yeah - sure.” Steve added the sauce, stirring the pot like his life depended on it, face averted. 

“Yeah, I'm still stuck on listening to music,” he just couldn’t leave it could he? Steve paused a moment before grabbing the parmesan cheese from the fridge. “I mean, they’re kind of like the old radio serials we used to listen to, right?”

“What are?”

“Uh, Podcasts.”

“I think so.” Steve grated cheese onto their meal as Bucky frowned, a little confused at their exchange.

“You think so?”

Steve let out a rush of air between his teeth before pushing a bowl over then sat down at the breakfast bar next to Bucky, “Oh, sorry, um yeah, they are - well some of them at least.”

“Oh, cool - maybe I’ll check them out. What’s your favourite?”

There was a moment of absolute silence, neither man chewing as Bucky waited expectantly for an answer. “Wanna eat in front of the tube? Baseballs on?”

“Sure…” Bucky answered to a blank space next to him. Steve had already bolted to the lounge and he chuckled under his breath. “Jeez, anyone would think the Dodgers were coming back to New York.”

Waking up alone in the apartment was a novel experience, generally he would crawl from his bed to the sounds of Steve rummaging in the kitchen. But, there was none of that this morning so Bucky stretched leisurely before making his way to the coffee machine, which was probably the best invention of the modern world. It was strange to remember how back in the day they could afford a decent coffee once a month if they were lucky, and even then it was sludge, but it still shook you to your bones and kept you awake for three days straight. Now it was on tap, literally. He grinned as his Garfield cup filled slowly, the deep rich smell of freshly ground coffee beans infiltrating his senses.

He grabbed his phone and started up his playlist, there was no reason not to since Steve was out. Fall Out Boy immediately filled the speakers in the kitchen, he really liked this genre, the lyrics could be down right gut wrenching but he got it, he really did. Not able to help himself he began to sing (badly) at the top of his lungs - he was no Frank Sinatra.

_ "I know this whole damn city thinks it needs you. But not as much as I do." _

He particularly loved this one song, the lyrics sparse but managing to capture so many of his thoughts, everything he felt but wouldn't say. He bounced around a bit, enjoying the energy, the coffee, the song when he heard a sharp intake of breath behind him. He never managed to turn around.

Instead, before he could utter a sound, he was roughly pressed up against the bench. Warm breath tickled his neck as a large figure crowded against every inch of him. His entire body flushed with adrenaline, Steve  _ was _ home.  _ Oh fuck… _

“It’s about us, isn’t it?”

“Wha...” Bucky lost the ability to think as Steve’s hand ghosted along his waist, finding his pajama pants band and tugged backwards slightly. He fell further into Steve's muscular frame, body caught between ice and fire.

"The songs, they are all about us, aren't they?”

Bucky’s mind filled with static, his mind desperately figuring out which instinct to go with - fight or flight. There was no real option though. He was completely hemmed in by his blonde wet dream. 

“I’m not sure how -” Steve tugged sharper, impatiently on his pants, “- uh, what do you want to hear?”

“The truth Buck, we always said we’d never lie to each other. Remember?”

How could Bucky forget. 

It was a cold almost freezing night as they shared warmth back in their Brooklyn apartment two days before Bucky left for the army. Steve looked miserable and Bucky felt it deep in his bones, he just wanted to keep this stubborn gorgeous boy safe, and he had to go, to leave. There was no way he could make something of himself in Brooklyn, and he wanted to make Steve proud. Wanted those gorgeous blue eyes to look up to him, so he promised himself he would come back and protect his pal for the rest of their living days. Not that Steve needed it, and would have hated the thought of protection in the first place. He was glorious in all of his obstinate wilful ways. Bucky could spend a lifetime falling in love with Steve every day, over and over again. His beautiful boy.

“I’ll be fine, Punk - it’s just a little war.”

“Don't lie to me.”

“I’m not, I’d never.”

“You can’t just run off to fight someone else's war and tell me you’ll be fine! Jerk." The indignant voice came from deep in the covers, nose and eyes peeking over the top of the scratchy threadbare blanket. 

“Ok I won’t. But, what do you want me to say?”

Steve was quiet for the longest time, blue eyes shining with wetness, from the cold air no doubt. He swallowed deeply and went to speak but instead nestled into Bucky's warmth, head tucked in under Bucky’s chin and they both sighed deeply. Bucky in contentment at being able to hold Steve, and Steve, well probably because he was finally warm. 

“Won't lie to you again, Bud.”

“You’d better not.”

Bucky was brought back into the now by a rough whisper against the shell of his ear. His insides turned to jelly.

“Truth, Buck.”

“ _ Fuck _ . Yes...” he hissed out when Steve’s lips barely traced a line below his ear, soft and hardly there, like a promise of more to come. He’d never been so glad for his (not ridiculous thank you very much, Sam) man-bun until that point in his life. Steve had full access to his neck. Shivers wracked his body.

“Language… and  _ yes _ , what?”

Lips hovered at the base of his neck and Bucky went insane, heart thumping out of his chest. His voice welled, wanting to babble out so many things - all at once. He couldn't comprehend Steve being this close, wanting to be, choosing it.

"I asked you a question."

The sharp order hardened Bucky's prick quicker than his super serum reaction time, he slid against the kitchen bench. _Fuck_, it felt too good_._ He was losing it, the push of his Steve at his back, the sharp coffee tang in the air and the extreme pressure low in his gut. 

"Yes, damn it," he ground out. "The songs are about us, are you happy?”

“Not yet.” Steve spun Bucky, blue eyes as intense as he'd ever seen stared into his. Steve's ragged uneven breathing creating a pang deep inside at a time when hearing the almost laboured sound would have worried Bucky. It worried him now, almost terrified him but in a completely different way. 

Did Steve want this? Want him?

"Buck?" The question hung shaky in the air for less than a moment, and he knew everything was about to change.

Suddenly lips hot and smooth were on his and his knees gave out.  _ Finally, _ he’d wanted and denied himself this fantasy for the longest time. Steve's tongue pressed softly against the seam of his mouth and just that tentative touch undid him. It was all he could do not to throw them to the floor and grind against the blonde until they were both a spasming mess of sensation. But Steve held him still, upright, he was his calm in the storm of rushing emotions. He pulled back and Bucky wasn't ashamed at the little growl of loss he let out.

"I knew it, the songs I mean.” Steve ran a hand through his hair, making it stick up in adorable angles. “How was I supposed to resist? I mean I walk in to our kitchen to see your gorgeous body moving to words which… just -  _ God _ \- are just so us."

Bucky could only stare, entranced as Steve rambled. "I, um…"

"I found your playlist," Steve interrupted what was sure to be a well thought out put together sentence, his mouth snapped shut at those words though. "It wasn't hard to find, I mean JARVIS was a huge help, but I found it and I couldn't. I mean, I just honestly couldn't stop listening. God Buck, why didn’t you say anything?” Steve asked as he leaned back further. Bucky fell forward so he was touching him again, needing the sensation more than breathing, trying to find words that encompassed everything he felt.

“Didn't think you liked me in that way,” was his soft reply against Steve’s cheek.

“Have you… Bucky it’s always been you - only you,  _ damn it _ …” his lips ghosted over Bucky's once more and he couldn't help but push forward with a whimper, trying to capture Steve's enticing lips again. Steve let out a forlorn almost lost huff, “All this time? We could have been…" 

“All this time…” Bucky responded through his grin. Steve's head fell forward until their foreheads touched. “But we got there in the end.”

Bucky’s entire being was thrumming. Certain that relief, excitement and pure joy radiated out of every pore in his body as he captured Steve’s lips in another breathless kiss. He could do this now, there was no more imagining what it would be like - it was his, it was theirs.

Steve’s fists balled up the sides of the soft t-shirt Bucky wore to bed and tugged him closer. Bucky could tell the blonde had no idea he was pulling him further into the orbit that was one Steven Grant Rogers. Bucky was there, one hundred percent in his orbit - had been his whole life.

Using his arm to his advantage, Bucky flipped them around so Steve fell against the kitchen counter, the blonde dazed and disoriented at the swift movement. It was a look Bucky wasn’t ever going to be able to live without, his Stevie, pliant, eyes blown and lips bruised red.  _ Fuck. _

What did he want to do, where did he start? For too long he thought about this moment, how it would play out, never had he imagined a stupid playlist would be the catalyst.

He went on pure instinct and fell forward, kissing Steve’s neck with open mouthed abandon, he tasted like bliss. Bucky let his palm trail down his friends abdominals, hand finally cupping the hardness through his pants. Holy hell, he was going to fucking love this.

“Uh, Buck - we moving too fast here?”

“You complaining Stevie?”

“No, no - I mean not at all - just…” Steve stopped talking as Bucky squeezed his length, Christ - this man was going to be the death of him.

“Waited a lifetime and longer for this. But consent is consent - if you don’t want -”

“- I want,” Steve's lips pushed against his almost desperately, “no, I’m good - I... Yes, I want - very much. Just don’t want you to feel like you… have to - you know?”

Without a second thought he dropped to his knees, taking Steve’s sleep pants with him. The sharply sucked in breath above him and the strangled ‘Buck’ the perfect compliment. 

“Believe me, the choice is all mine. One hundred percent me.” Bucky met Steve’s blown eyes a moment almost unable to wrench his gaze away, but he managed it. Steve’s cock was unfathomably almost as gorgeous as the man himself, he wasn’t surprised. He managed to hold in a quip about how it stood to attention almost as good as the man himself, but Steve’s sharp gasp then deep groan from above him spurred him on instead. Using his flesh hand he grasped the warmth of Steve’s prick. He was not letting his metal palm be the first touch, he wanted, no he  _ needed _ skin on skin. He rested his metal hand on Steve’s hip and jolted when a large hand covered it, then fingers entwined it lovingly. Damn he was gone on this boy, so gone.

Looking up again, he caught Steve watching him, eyes hooded, emotion roaring through their blue depths, he couldn’t help it and smirked jauntily up at him then engulfed his cock in one swoop.

Steve’s whole body jerked as a breathless wrecked moan left his throat, before his other hand tangled in Bucky’s hair, guiding him with unconscious short staccato hip jerks. _ Oh god, yes _ \- that’s what he craved.

Only one person on the entire planet, _ hell _ all the planets, would be allowed to use Bucky for their own purposes again, and Steve was it.

Bucky swallowed him down impossibly further so Steve hit the back of his throat every stroke, mumbling incomprehensible words, it was perfect in every way. He stroked what exposed silky skin he could grasp, wet with saliva and other fluids until he felt Steve tense up.

“Buck, Buck - you’ve… oh Christ, I mean, dang - oh shit I’m going to come if you don’t stop.”

He couldn’t help but laugh around his friends cock which made Steve tense up with a groan. He lessened his ministrations and pulled back a moment grinning up at this red faced, broken man, “language. I’ve got you, Bud.” 

Engulfing Steve to the hilt, he stopped all movement and swung his eyes up to capture wide blue ones. He waited a total of five seconds, the anticipation all but crackling in the air. Then he hummed. 

“Oh, my god…” Steve let out a shout, coming down his throat almost on command.  _ Yep _ , he was officially never, ever going to be without this ever again.

Sitting back on his haunches after licking up every drop, a hand cupped his cheek and he looked up into sated eyes, and a very crimson cheeked best friend… lover.

“That was…” Steve flamed impossibly redder, “I can’t even articulate…”

Bucky smirked and got to his feet, leaning in and kissing Steve below the ear tenderly, “That’s exactly how I want you.”

Steve helplessly gestured at Bucky’s tented sleep pants before smiling fondly, “Can I help you out with that?”

He almost came untouched at the heat coming from Steve’s intense gaze, this thing was definitely not one-sided. He took in a shaky breath, “come on then, let’s take this to my room.”

“Our room,” Steve murmured back, pressing a soft kiss to Bucky’s temple. Before hesitating then letting out a rush of words, “love you, Buck.”

_ Oh,  _ his insides flipped over, “love you too, Stevie.”

They stood silently for the longest moment, just basking in each others smiles.

“Your eyes crinkle up adorably when you smile.”

Bucky huffed out an annoyed breath yet grabbed Steve’s hand fondly and tugged him towards ‘their’ room. He was officially the luckiest bastard in the world, even if Steve was the biggest sap this side of the Mississippi.

Clint sat back, feet up on the boardroom table, a shiteating grin on his face. “Hey Sam, did you hear that Buck made Cap a mixtape?”

“No, no I did not, man. How very 90s of you.”

“What's a mixtape?” Steve asked, brow furrowing as he looked at Sam.

Tony rolled his eyes as chuckles filled the room then gestured to Steve’s pocket. “Put it in your notebook, we have a world to save and I don’t have time to mess with you. I actually can't believe I just said that. It’s your lucky day, Capsicle.”

Steve wrote something down ignoring Tony’s remark, then glanced at Bucky, "yep, it certainly is."

Tony sighed at not getting a bite and pulled up schematics on a Hydra base and Bucky smirked at his partner, his Steve. 

“No time for eye-fucking either.”

The splutter of indignation from Steve and resulting argument between Tony and him while the rest of them sat back and watched, was also familiar.

Bucky grinned, he'd found home - finally. 

  
  
  
  



End file.
